The Devil You Know
by the morrighan
Summary: This is a sequel to my Old West Vegas story Vegas Los Rancho Vegas. This is part two of three.
1. Chapter 1

The Devil You Know

**Vegas. February 1886.**

It was cold. It was bracingly cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and took your breath away even before it left your lungs. Although the sun was shining it did little to warm the winter air. The sky was a pale, pale blue, but clouds were scudding along the mountains to presage a coming storm.

John Sheppard was bundled against the cold. He still felt it anyway and he wished he was at home, in Moira's house, in Moira's bed snuggled up with her. Instead he was riding along a well-trodden path. Snow sparkled to either side of him.

He was following the trail of a killer and nothing would stop him.

"Sheppard! Sheppard!"

The male voice was raucous and breathless. John turned in the saddle to see a man galloping towards him. He was waving one arm in the air and his bright red scarf was trailing after him like a comet. John's gaze narrowed and he stopped his horse, waiting for his pursuer.

"Sheriff Sheppard!" Rodney McKay reached the lawman and stopped his horse abruptly. The black animal snorted, pawing the ground. Rodney coughed as the cold air inundated his lungs and it took a moment for him to regain the power of speech. "Sheppard, is it true?"

"Is what true?" John asked, eying the other man with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.

"Is it true you are pursuing the creature?"

"Yeah." John turned and clicked his teeth. Obediently the brown horse beneath him began to trot along the pathway once more. He shoved his hat down on his head as a blast of cold air threatened to remove it.

"Sheppard!" Rodney swore and rode next to the lawman. He adjusted his bowler hat and shoved his scarf up around his ears again. It was at times like these that he missed the comforts of a proper city. "I believe I can be of assistance to you in this endeavor!"

"You can, can you?" John mocked, clearly dubious. He eyed the other man. "Did Moira send you after me?" Suspicion lined his face.

"What? No. I have not seen Mrs. Sumner since our last meeting at supper in her home. Why would she send me after you?" he asked, completely oblivious about the relationship of the sheriff to the schoolmarm. "Word of your precipitous actions was all over town. The man Bates was quite emphatic about the rules you wished enforced in your absence. Between you and me I think the man is a little too eager to replace you, but rest assured he will not win the town's regard as you have, I believe. You cannot go after this, this creature alone, sheriff. We both know what it is capable of and quite frankly only a fool would go alone."

John blinked at the sheer effusion of words. He glowered. "Are you callin' me a fool?"

"Yes," Rodney agreed simply. "If you go after this thing alone then you are a fool."

"I don't need no fancy man to help me! Go back to your city!" The tone of dismissal was quite clear.

Rodney chose to ignore it. "No. This is an unprecedented opportunity and I shall not go back. I am no coward, sir, despite whatever opinions you may have formed to the contrary!"

John smiled. "Indeed you are not, but you will only slow me down. Go back to town, McKay," John continued, tone more conciliatory. "I'm sure Beckett would welcome your help."

"I am sure that he would," Rodney agreed, "but you need it more right now. Besides, I have a few devices that will aid us in tracking this, this creature." He patted the case at his knee with evident pride.

"Is that so? Well, I got my own way to track this creature."

"And what way is that?"

"I know a fella who's an expert tracker. I'm on my way to fetch him now. Accompany me if you wish, but just stay outta the way when we find this thing and kill it. And for God's sake don't talk so dern much!" John's spurs touched the sides of his horse and the animal broke into a gallop.

"Sheppard! I…fine! I will!" Rodney sighed and urged his own mount to follow the lawman.

He had no intention of letting Sheppard kill the creature.

He wanted it alive.

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"He's gone."

The words were terse. Richard Woolsey frowned as he stood in the middle of the street, staring at the shattered remains of the sheriff's office. After the fire one wall was entirely gone, and the rest of the building was precariously boarded up with timbers. No work would commence on rebuilding the structure until the worst of the winter had passed.

Ice gleamed on the bars of the jail cells. A few were oddly bent, as if pried apart by some unknown force that was able to force them without any tools.

Richard removed his spectacles and wiped them clean on his plaid gray scarf. He found it odd to be back in this town, once more at the behest of the government to sequester certain things of a particularly upsetting and fantastic nature. The first time he had taken possession of some strange futuristic technology. This time he was after something far more rare, and dangerous.

He restored his glasses onto his face and eyed the speaker again. "How long?"

Carson Beckett was warily eying the well-dressed, quiet man. He recognized him from the last time he had been in town. "A few days now," the doctor replied. His Scottish lilt briefly warmed the cold, cold air. "Why?"

"I find it irresponsible for the sheriff to leave without appointing anyone to fulfill his duties."

"He did so." Carson gestured towards a dark-skinned man who was talking with a group of miners. The gold star on his coat shone in the sunlight. "At least temporarily until he returns. Between you and me Sheppard can't stand the man, but Bates is competent enough at this job."

"What about the deputy?"

Carson sighed. Emotion filled his blue eyes. Deputy Evan Lorne was lingering, lingering, not yet ready to die but dying all the same. "He's not long for this world, I fear."

"A victim of this…killer the sheriff is tracking?"

"Yes." Carson had noted the hesitation in the Pinkerton's voice. This killer was neither a man nor a wendigo but something in between. Something that could not be explained by medical science, at least not yet. "How do you come to know about recent events in our little town?"

"Word gets round," Richard said. It was his time to be evasive. The fact that there had been more killings spread across the area did not need to be revealed just yet, nor the various astounding theories as to the creature's origins. "Tell me, doctor, what exactly happened to the deputy and to those other victims?"

"Why don't you tell me, Mr. Woolsey. It appears that you know more than I do about this." Carson folded his arms across his chest, resolute.

"If I may I should like to speak to the deputy and—"

"No. You may not. If there's nothing further I have rounds to make and—"

"I'm afraid I must insist, Doctor Beckett. I cannot say anything further but I must insist upon your full cooperation in this matter. I have specific orders from Washington to follow through on these crimes and to apprehend the culprit of these crimes, barring any interference from the locals. Now, if you wouldn't mind?" He gestured with one open hand.

Carson scowled. Without a word he turned and led the other man towards his medical office.


	2. Chapter 2

The Devil You Know2

"A whorehouse?"

John snorted his amusement as the men dismounted and tied their horses to the post outside the building. It was sequestered amid a line of various businesses, all catering to travelers of various sorts. It was too small to be called a town.

Snow fell from the heavy sky. The large flakes were swirling on a cold breeze, covering the dirt and the fancy awning of the building. Rodney swallowed his doubts and followed John into the establishment. He could ignore his misgivings when he needed the warmth of a fire and maybe, just maybe a good meal.

He tried not to think of the other items on the menu.

Red and gold predominated in the parlor. Heavy curtains lined the windows. Chairs and couches were plush invitations, and a winding stairway led up to the more private entertainments. Women were lounging or standing, all eying the two men as they entered with a flurry of snow at their backs.

John doffed his hat, giving them his best winning smile. "Ladies." He glanced at Rodney, elbowed him. The scientist was staring round with wide blue eyes, frozen in place. He had even forgotten to doff his hat. John suppressed a laugh and turned, stepping to the bar. He could feel the assessing and admiring gazes of the women upon him. "Whiskey, straight up, please." He watched the scrawny man pour the drink. "McKay, over here."

Rodney hadn't moved. He stood, staring round at the display of female flesh and ostentatious furnishings as if he had never been in a whorehouse, which in fact he had not.

John downed the drink in a quick swallow. It burned its way along his throat to his stomach, warming his blood. "Thanks." He licked his lips.

"John Sheppard, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

John turned at the Southern, female voice and watched an attractive, plump woman approach. Her scarlet skirts whispered as she neared, and her breasts were nearly toppling out of the black corset she wore. Auburn ringlets bounced with her every step. "Is he here?"

Suzanna Thompson scowled and nodded. "Of course. Isn't it Tuesday?" She jerked a thumb towards the stairs.

John nodded and moved to the foot of the stairs. "Dex! Dex! DEX!" he bellowed. His voice reverberated through the building in an almost musical cadence.

"I would ask you not to cause a disturbance," Suzanna reprimanded, watching him. She mourned that the long duster he wore obscured some of his finer assets.

John ignored her. He took a few steps up the stairs but paused as a man appeared at the head of them. He was naked except for a silken white pillow he held over his private parts. He was tanned, muscles bulging and curious tattoos encircling his arms. His long thick hair was gathered into braids although his mustache and beard were finely trimmed.

John didn't bat an eye. "We got a killer to track. We move in five. And this time you git to kill him." Ronon Dex grinned in response. John glanced past the tracker to see two young women giggling behind him. He shook his head and headed back for the bar, but he paused as Rodney was still standing like a statue. He smirked. "What's the problem, McKay? Never seen a woman before?"

"What? No, no no no no of course I've seen a woman before!" Rodney stammered, blushing. "Just not in such a state of undress." Seeing John's amusement Rodney bristled, adjusting his hat and scarf. "I will have you know, sir, that back in Chicago I am very well-known in the more socially acceptable gatherings and I have even been on a dance card or two. If you will excuse me I will see to the horses." He headed for the door, turned and strode to the bar. He downed some whiskey, coughed and spluttered.

John was trying not to laugh even as some of the women were tittering behind their hands. He walked over and thumped Rodney on the back. "Easy there, fancy man. Don't drown."

"Thank you." Rodney wiped his mouth and eyed the women. "Ladies." He exited the building, face red from the alcohol and from the embarrassment.

"Where did you pick up that greenhorn?" Suzanna asked, linking her arm through John's and pressing her ample bosom to it.

"He's an expert in these matters," John evaded, trying to extricate his arm.

"John, are you sure you don't wanna stay for a little entertainment? I'm sure I could arrange something to your liking. I still have the velvet bindings and the feather teaser."

John smiled, freeing his arm. "Not this time, Suzanna. Sorry. Business to attend. Dex, get a leg up! Ma'am, ladies." John restored his hat and exited the building.

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Carson was watching over his patient like a hawk, as he stood to one side of the bed. Evan Lorne was a mere whisper of a man, clinging stubbornly to life although he was losing the battle. He was aged beyond his years and looked it. His face was wrinkled and his skin dry. His hair was now gray and his blue eyes were filmed over with shock and the depletion of his vitality.

Although he had not been drained to the point of death he was near it nonetheless.

Richard stood, eying the hapless deputy. Compassion lined his face, but not surprise and Carson took note of it. Richard shook his head, adjusting his spectacles. "I am so sorry this happened to you, deputy. Believe me when I say that if there was anything that could be done we would be doing it to help you. I must know…this man that attacked you, had you ever seen him before?"

"It weren't no man." Evan's voice was a gasping breath, barely audible even in the silence of the small room.

Richard stepped closer, leaning in to hear. "And what makes you say that? What did you see? How did it attack you and render you into this horrible state?"

"It weren't no man…the hand…" Evan tried to raise his hand but his arm shook so badly he let it drop next to him.

"That's enough," Carson intervened, seeing his patient was near exhaustion already.

"But I must know what he—"

"If you question him further he may die. He has little strength left to him." Carson stepped in front of Richard, blocking access to Evan.

"Very well. May I see the other victims?"

Carson drew the Pinkerton away from Evan. "No. That is to say they are in cold storage until they can be buried once the ground thaws. There's not much left to see anyway, as you already know. I think your business here is concluded."

"It is not concluded. I assume that you performed an autopsy on each victim. I need whatever you collected from the bodies and your analysis. Plus I need whatever you found on the deputy, particularly around his wound."

"And what exactly is it you are looking for, or should I ask what are the nature of these inquiries as you seem to know far more about these murders than I do."

"Believe it or not, Doctor Beckett, I am trying to help. Regardless of our last encounter I am here solely to aid this town in the apprehension of this criminal."

"If that was so you would be out there with a posse hunting him down," Carson countered.

"Like your sheriff?"

"Yes. Now kindly take your leave, sir. You are not welcome here." Carson folded his arms across his chest, scowling.

"Very well. I will be in town, pending any further developments. I will expect your findings tomorrow. And I wish to speak to Deputy Lorne again, once he has the strength for a conversation. Good day to you, doctor."

Carson watched the Pinkerton leave. He shook his head, glancing back at his patient. Evan had fallen into a fitful doze. "He may not even survive the next conversation," he muttered.


	3. Chapter 3

The Devil You Know3

"Him?" Rodney's voice was more of a squeak as he stared at the imposing figure joining the two men. Wrapped in a heavy coat and dangling furs Ronon appeared even larger. He fastened a large buffalo rifle to his pack on his brown horse. "A, a savage?" he whispered. Ronon grunted as if in response.

John smiled. "He's a savage, all right, but the best tracker I know round here. I have employed his skills once or twice before. Jes don't get in his way as he has an unfortunate tendency to kill anyone that annoys him."

"What? I….you are not in the least amusing, sir!"

"I wasn't tryin' to be amusing." John smirked and stepped over to Ronon. He was staring back at the whorehouse, at the tempting glimpses of female flesh as the women watched from the windows. "I meant what I said. You git to kill him."

"Good." Ronon met John's gaze. His brown eyes narrowed as he turned from the pleasures of the flesh to business. "What's he done?"

"Killed two men and nearly killed my deputy. He's a wild one, unpredictable."

"What about him?" Ronon jerked a thumb towards Rodney. The scientist was up on his horse, eying the whorehouse although trying to not look like he was eying the den of sin.

John smiled. "He's a special consultant in these matters."

"Him?"

"He knows more about what's goin' on and he can help us track him."

"Him?" Ronon's tone remained dubious.

"He's got some fancy equipment that may narrow the search."

Ronon snorted. "I don't need no equipment 'cept my own." He tapped his brow.

"I'm sure that's what the ladies say." Ronon guffawed. John smoothly mounted his horse. "Let's head out! We need to keep ahead of this storm!"

"Sheriff, do you know where we are headed? Surely you realize the, the criminal will not be headed back to your town."

John scowled. "I know that, McKay, which is why we will be heading for the next town, and with any luck catch him on the way. Let's ride!"

Without waiting for assent John touched his spurs to his horse and the animal broke into a gallop. Ronon and Rodney exchanged a glance and quickly followed after the lawman.

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There was a knock at the door.

Moira whirled, startled. She stared, frozen by hope. Hope that it was John returned at last, but she realized he wouldn't be back so soon and that he wouldn't knock. His absence was a constant worry, a constant ache that she tried to ignore. Moira glanced at the rifle over the mantle. She moved to the door and opened it.

"Mrs. Sumner, sorry to intrude," Carson said with a smile, doffing his black hat.

Moira smiled. "Doctor Beckett, please come inside." She stepped away to allow the doctor entrance. She shut the door against the bitter cold as the doctor removed his hat and coat and hung both on the hooks near the door. Snow dropped to the floor. "What brings you out here, doctor?"

"You." Carson smiled at her surprise. "Would I be imposing if I requested a cup of tea? It's quite inclement this afternoon. I fear another storm is on the horizon."

"Of, of course. Please, have a seat and I will set the water to boil." Moira crossed to the kitchen, curious and nervous. She opened a cabinet, debating, and decided upon selecting the fine china cups for her guest. "I do not understand why you felt the need to venture all the way out here, doctor."

Carson sat on the couch, rubbing his hands together to warm them. Although quite cold outside the house felt comfortably warm. "I felt the need to inform you of a few things. One of those things being the return of that Pinkerton."

Moira moved to sit near Carson on the settee. "Mr. Woolsey has returned?"

"Aye, he has, lass, and he's very interested in the criminal who recently escaped and caused such harm. I expect he might show up on your doorstep."

"Thank you for the warning, Carson." They smiled. Moira sighed. "If he is so very interested in the creature why is he not pursuing it himself?"

"That's a good question, Moira. Like our McKay he knows more than he's telling us."

"But Doctor McKay is out there, helping John hunt the, the creature." She straightened the folds of her black skirt with nervous hands. "I, I meant Sheriff Sheppard. If Mr. Woolsey was so very interested why he is not out there as well? With the resources of his detective agency he could easily assemble a posse to pursue the creature." At the doctor's silence she met his gaze.

Carson was smiling, charmed by her slip of using the sheriff's first name and her quick correction. He has always suspected there was much more going on between the sheriff and the schoolmarm than met the eye. "Another good question and one that I shall ask him. You haven't asked about Evan." The reprove was gentle, but there all the same.

Moira stood, wringing her hands together as she glanced round the room. "How fares the deputy?"

"He still lingers, but I fear he will pass any day now. Woolsey wishes to interrogate him. It would be a kindness if you would visit the deputy, Moira."

"I cannot."

"Cannot, or will not?"

The tea kettle began to whistle. "Excuse me. I will get your tea." She quickly moved to the kitchen, glad for the reprieve. She felt a blush on her face, composed of guilt and shame and she wished that John was with her. John had guessed who had hit her, and John hadn't blamed her. John had renounced his friendship with the deputy because of it.

John had said he loved her, and she still marveled in astonishment over it.

Moira touched her cheek. The bruises were fading. She could still remember John's gentle touch. The whisper of his fingers lingered, lingered. The echoes of his kisses and other carnal delights were memories to keep her warm at night, but faded like phantoms in the cold light of day as each hour made his absence more keenly felt.

"Moira?"

Moira dropped her hand to the counter. "Sorry, doctor. I will be right with you." She quickly poured the hot water into two cups and added the tea bags. She carried them to the parlor and set them onto the lace doilies on the table.

Carson touched her hand. "I didn't mean to upset you, love. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"No." She withdrew, sitting further away from him and keeping her gaze on the two cups. Steam rose in lazy spirals from the porcelain. She raised her eyes at last to meet the doctor's concerned expression. "I know why you are here, doctor."

"Yes, to warn you about Mr. Woolsey and to be certain that you are all right out here all on your own. I really wish you would stay in town during this crisis."

"The crisis has passed, otherwise the sheriff never would have left to pursue the creature. You saw it firsthand. What can you recall of it? Did it resemble the drawing in the book of the wendigo?"

Carson nodded. "Aye, it did, somewhat, but I only received a quick glimpse of it before it escaped the inferno of the jail. Unfortunately I cannot infer much from a quick glimpse."

Moira smiled. "I see. You wish to see the skull."


	4. Chapter 4

The Devil You Know4

"Here."

Ronon dismounted and moved ahead, leading his horse around the scrub. Pockets of snow obscured the dirt underneath. The sun was shining but it was cold. Storm clouds hovered over the mountains and were slowly descending upon them, veiling them from sight.

The men had been riding for hours and were grateful for the reprieve. John dismounted and followed after the tracker. His hand slid to his gun holster. He stroked the handle of his Colt then hefted his rifle. He looked round. It was desolate out here. Miles and miles of nothing but abandoned hopes and the ruins of houses littered the landscape. A silver boom had come and gone and there wasn't much left.

Rodney remained on his horse, slowly following. He felt around in his knapsack and produced a device. He activated it and eyed the readings. The little needle shook but did not move more than was expected. He sighed and looked round, but there were no signs of any meteor impact in this area. "This isn't it. We're going the wrong way," he announced, restoring the device to his bag with a quick motion of his hand.

"Here," Ronon repeated, kneeling in the snow. He pointed at a fading impression of a boot print. "He's been here, going slow for a few miles. He's lost."

"No. He won't have come here because there's no trace of meteor activity and there's nothing here for him to feed on," Rodney countered. "It's not him."

"Meteor activity? Feed on?" Ronon asked, glancing over his shoulder at the scientist. He frowned and stood, pointing towards the hills. "He mighta holed up in there before movin' on to the next town."

"No! I'm telling you he's heading for the impact of the meteor and for people! He will need to feed soon! Isn't that right, Sheppard? The feedings were close together, within days of each other?"

"What the hell is it we're tracking?" Ronon asked, turning to view the sheriff. He scowled. The lawman had not been very forthcoming, which wasn't unusual, but the sheriff was holding back quite a bit apparently.

John was eying the marks in the snow. He glanced at the mountains veiled in falling mist that would soon turn to snow. He eyed the dilapidated buildings around them. Most lacked roofs and were stripped of all valuables. A coyote was rummaging in one of them but bolted suddenly as the horses snorted in warning.

Rodney pointed in the other direction. "We need to go that way! My equipment indicates a higher level of meteor activity and there should be a town or some settlement with people there as well, is that not so? We are wasting time here!"

"He's been here! Are you doubting my skills?" Ronon challenged.

"No, but he is not here now!" Rodney argued.

"Enough!" John eyed one man, then the other. "You reckon he went thataway?" John pointed towards the east where the sun was a dim gold ball in the pale sky.

"Yes. Given my calculations of the meteor showers the impact zone should be a few miles that way, and if I am not mistaken, which I am not there is a settlement nearby, well, not a settlement by any civilized means but there are people there which would provide the sufficient amount of sustenance for the—"

John turned away from the voluble scientist. "And you reckon he went thataway?" He pointed towards the west where the mountains cast long shadows on the snow.

"Yes."

John waited but the tracker said nothing else. "And? Care to elucidate your reasoning?"

"Do I need to?" Ronon challenged, casting a glare at the scientist. John had never doubted his words or his skills until now, until this pompous city man had arrived.

"Yes," Rodney interjected. "Your supposition is based on false evidence whereas mine is based on solid facts and the knowledge of this creature and what it does and what it needs and what it seeks so if we head that way we would we would we would…" Rodney sputtered the last as Ronon stomped towards him, murderous rage on his face.

John removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. He replaced his hat on his head and considered. Normally he would have taken Ronon's word without a second thought, but this case was different. Despite his arrogance and irritability the scientist seemed to know what he was doing, and Moira had a high opinion of him. "East," he decided.

Rodney smiled, but his triumph was short-lived as Ronon grunted and glared. Rodney set spurs to his horse to ride next to John. "Mr. Sheppard…you, you were kidding about your friend there being homicidal about little and trifling annoyances, weren't you?"

John just laughed.

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"I'm sorry." Moira sighed and shrugged as they stood on the porch of her house. A cool wind swept round the building, stirring up the snow to flutter and fall, flutter and fall. Moira wrapped her shawl around her. "I would show you the skull but I no longer have it. John…that is to say Sheriff Sheppard thought it prudent to bury it lest the Pinkertons return to take it. He wouldn't tell me where he buried it because he knew I would be tempted to recover it." A quick smile crossed her face at the memory of that argument and the passionate resolution afterwards.

She had never enjoyed arguing with a man as much as she did with John.

Carson frowned. "Damn that man's prudence then. The Pinkertons have returned, and if I am not mistaken these two matters are connected in some way. The precipitous arrival of Doctor McKay further proves my point. As I recall the skull bore a startling similarity to the prisoner."

"I'm sorry," Moira repeated. "I have no idea where he buried it. I only have these sketches." She handed the doctor the drawings of the oddly elongated skull. It was vaguely human but it had too many teeth sharpened to deadly points. The eye sockets were not quite right either. "It's not quite human, is it?" she ventured.

Carson met her gaze. His blue eyes were solemn. "No, not quite. As extraordinary as this sounds I am in agreement with you. This…this creature, whatever it is is not quite human. It needs humans as a means of sustenance, in a way that I cannot quite fathom, not yet."

"A new species," Moira murmured, eyes bright with interest.

"Perhaps, or an old one rediscovered. It could be that your supposition is correct and this creature is the basis for parts of the wendigo legend."

Moira sighed. "I never should have let the sheriff bury the skull," she regretted.

"Never mind, love." Carson glanced at the drawings and pocketed them. "I will use these to help my memory, thank you. That Pinkerton man knows far more than he wishes to reveal, which I find utterly confounding! How are we to aid him if we have only part of the answer to the question? He must be more forthcoming!" The doctor adjusted his hat and coat. "I'd best be getting back to town. Are you certain you do not wish to accompany me?"

"Yes. I am fine out here," Moira insisted. She didn't add that she would rather wait here for John's return than the town. She was certain he would ride to her house first, whatever the outcome of the manhunt would be.

"All right, if that is your decision. Expect that Pinkerton to come calling in the next few days. He's interviewing nearly everyone, I believe. And please…" Carson paused to touch her arm, "please reconsider your decision to visit Evan. It would be a great kindness on your part." Moira was silent, eyes downcast, expression demure. "No matter what has transpired between the two of you it scarcely matters now, does it?" Carson persisted. "Good day to you, Mrs. Sumner."

Before the doctor could climb aboard his buggy a commotion broke out across the yard in the barn. Horses were snorting and whinnying loudly and chickens were squawking. There was a strange moaning sound that could have been the wind, but the scream that was suddenly cut off was not the wind.

Carson exchanged a glance with Moira. He stepped to her, calm and collected. "Moira, would you be so kind as to fetch that rifle above the mantle? I trust that it is loaded? Remain here while I see what is causing that ruckus."


	5. Chapter 5

The Devil You Know5

"We're bein' followed." Ronon's voice was a gruff monotone. His breath plumed in the cold, cold air.

"I know."

"We're being followed?" Rodney exclaimed, looking round until a smack on his arm made him turn forward in the saddle. The three men were riding abreast, cresting the snowfall with ponderous determination.

"For a few miles now," Ronon added.

"I know," John repeated. He had that itchy feeling on the back of his neck that told him he was being watched and followed. He never discounted it. His hands tightened on the reins. "Stop lookin' around!" he chastised. Rodney was nearly riding backwards as he stared behind them.

Rodney shrugged, turning forward in the saddle once more. "Are you sure? I don't see anyone! Who would be following us? We are tracking the, the prisoner, correct, so he can't be behind us now can he? Perhaps someone is following us to render assistance should we need it."

"Is it him?" Ronon asked.

"Nah. This is someone else," John surmised. He pulled down the brim of his hat and scanned the horizon. The land dipped and soon the men would be swallowed by shadows. The sun was low in the sky, at their backs and bathing them in gloom. Soon it would be full-on dark. "We need to find a place to make camp."

"What?" Rodney exclaimed. "We're going to sleep out here?"

"Don't see a hotel hereabouts, do you?" John scoffed.

Rodney's fingers fumbled over his pack and he produced a small device. "Here. You need to activate it. Do you remember this?"

John looked over, raising a brow, wondering why the scientists did not produce it in the first place. He took the device, studying it. He recalled using it months ago. Carson had theorized that there was something in his blood that could activate the machine, something that Rodney lacked. It was a curious puzzle the doctor wished to solve. "Yeah. Didn't that Pinkerton fella confiscate this?"

Rodney ignored the question. "It will track the—"

"I know." At John's touch the device softly hummed and the screen illuminated to reveal four dots. Three were close together and the fourth was behind them. Then there was a fifth, ahead of them in the valley. "Ah."

"Look over there. Meteor fragments. We are getting closer!" Rodney said, glad to have his suppositions proven correct. Black ore littered the snow in a sporadic trajectory. In the failing light tiny sparks of silver glinted amid the debris of rock and eroded sediment. "I need to collect a few samples."

"Go on then." John watched the scientist dismount and hasten towards the rocks, leading his horse quickly. John sighed and shifted in the saddle. He glanced at the device again. The following dot was no nearer, and the dot they were pursuing wasn't any farther away. Both were maintaining the same distance from the three men.

"Whaddya want to do?" Ronon asked, riding up beside the sheriff. He glanced at Rodney. The scientist was gathering samples into a leather satchel, muttering under his breath in quiet excitement. Ronon stared a moment, confounded by the other man's enthusiasm for bits of rock and sediment.

"Nothing, for now," John answered. "Let's see how this plays out."

"Does he ever not talk?"

John snorted. "Apparently not. Let's find a place to camp. McKay!"

Rodney sighed and mounted his horse. He followed after the two men. He turned to look behind him. He couldn't help it. He saw nothing but miles of nothing behind them. The landscape was mostly white, littered with scrub and boulders behind which anyone could hide.

Or anything.

He looked at his two companions. John was staring ahead, straight in the saddle, seemingly unperturbed as he pocketed the device. Ronon was looking to either side of them, expression grim as he fingered a long knife in his belt.

"There." Ronon pointed. "That bluff. It'll keep the wind at our backs and provide shelter."

"And a defensible position," John concurred. "See what you can rustle up for supper. I'll get us situated and a fire going."

Rodney frowned. His two companions were well-armed, whereas Rodney only had a pistol. Still, he had something the other two men lacked. Rodney had science, and science would win the day if violence could not.

As would the stun gun he had hidden in his coat.

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Carson hefted the rifle and cautiously approached the barn. It was very quiet, very still. The sun was glowing ball in the horizon, casting shadows across his path. He reasoned that a coyote or even a wolf or a mountain lion had gotten into the barn and spooked the inhabitants.

The shiver that stole up his back negated his logic.

Moira followed behind him, clutching an ax. It was the only other weapon she had. Her gaze was locked on the open barn door. Sometimes vagrants would lodge there but most would move on the next day and not cause any problems.

They certainly never made the animals shriek in terror.

The snow was a sparkling guide, even in the low light. A path had been worn to the barn and back and now revealed faint footsteps.

Carson paused, listening. He glanced back at Moira, glanced again in surprise. "Go back to the house, love. I can handle this."

"No. I won't let you go in there alone," she refuted. Her grip on the ax tightened.

The doctor frowned, but saw that arguing would be fruitless. He proceeded to the barn door. Carefully he entered the enclosure. The light was dim. It streamed weakly through the high windows and was scattered among the horse stalls and the chicken coop. The horses were neighing softly, moving and nervous. The chickens were clucking.

Nothing appeared to be amiss. Nevertheless Carson stepped slowly, holding the rifle steadily as he peered into the shadows. There was a noise, a sound of something or someone moving it the gloom. "That's enough! Come out of there now!" he ordered.

Moira stepped next to him, trying to see what was in the shadows.

There was a sudden commotion. A man ran towards them. "Git out! Git out now before it gets ya!" he shouted, arms flailing wildly as he ran. Blood was streaming down his naked chest and his eyes were huge, wild.

Carson lowered the gun and quickly stepped aside as did Moira before the man crashed into them. The man rushed between them and exited the barn. Carson and Moira turned to watch him flee, startled.

"Hey there! You there, just a tic!" the doctor shouted, relieved that the intruder was just a man, an injured man who obviously needed his aid.

He didn't hear the sounds of motion behind him.

Moira heard the scuffing of footsteps and whirled, raising the ax.

A creature barreled towards them. All that Moira could make out was a blur of black and white before it extended an arm and its fingers closed around her throat.


	6. Chapter 6

The Devil You Know6

Rodney was surprised and satisfied. The stew had been quite delicious, startling the connoisseur in the scientist with its exotic taste and filling quantity. He didn't ask what was in the stew; it was better not to know as long as no citrus was involved. The coffee had been strong and hot and should effectively keep him awake for hours. But even so Rodney could feel his eyes grow heavy as weariness began to assert itself.

He sat near the small fire, gazing up at the sky. It was a black canvas upon which hundreds and hundreds of stars twinkled brilliantly. A sliver of silver moon was rising amid the darkness. Sparks of light would streak across the sky from time to time. The remnants of the meteor shower peppered the night sky. Some of the streaks were tinged green, which fascinated Rodney to no end. He theorized that along with the magnetic field on Earth there could very well be one or more around the planet, in space, and that such fluctuations produced the lights in the sky seen from time to time.

John sat next to him, also watching the sky. He had his rifle next to him, within easy reach. He shifted, getting comfortable as he leaned back against a rock. It was cold, but the bluff blocked most of the wind and protected their backs. A coyote's mournful howl filled the air. The fire crackled. The tiny orange flames were dancing in the wind, wavering but stubbornly clinging to life. The little circle of light provided both illumination and protection.

John was thinking of the prisoner that had attacked him. The creature, he amended, for that was what it was. It was something more than a man, and less than one. He could still feel that odd sucker on his chest, pumping something into him before it was able to drain his life. John could feel a strange burning sensation there from time to time, and he felt an odd craving for something he could not put a name to, not yet.

His keen gaze darted round the campsite. Ronon had volunteered to take the first watch and he stood a few feet away from the fire, a stoic figure clad in heavy clothing and furs. John bent his knees and rested his forearms on them. He watched the lights streaking across the sky as he fingered a black ribbon on his wrist. He turned it round and round and round.

"It's incredible, isn't it?" Rodney gestured up towards the sky. "The enormity of space, the vastness of the stars. There is so much to discover out there, up there. Mark my words we will travel out there some day, in a flying machine. And yes, I believe that these, these creatures came here in a flying machine of some sort that astronomers mistook for part of the meteoroid showers. When we find that machine we will find the creature."

"Uh huh."

Rodney glanced at the taciturn sheriff. He was listening but seemed miles away, as he stared at the stars and plied a ribbon on his wrist repeatedly.

"What's that?"

John looked over as Rodney was eying the ribbon. He quickly freed it and pulled the sleeve of his coat over it. "Nothing," he replied gruffly. He eyed the sky again.

"Was that a woman's ribbon or—"

"Why did it come here?" John asked, changing the subject. He glanced at the voluble scientist.

Rodney's gaze narrowed. Clearly his curiosity was peaked but he replied, "I cannot answer that. But the creature can. In fact…I needed to talk to you about that," he continued, voice lowering to conspiring tones.

"About what?"

"The creature."

"We are."

"No, I mean about the creature and its capture."

"Ah. We aren't gonna catch it."

"I'm sorry?"

"We're gonna kill it," John clarified grimly.

"No! I mean no. We need to capture it alive, long enough for me to speak to it. It…it spoke to me. In the jail it spoke to me, in English," Rodney insisted to John's disbelieving gaze.

"Really? And what did it say?" John asked, skeptical.

Rodney swallowed. "Is that so?"

"Is what so?"

"No! That's what the creature said! When I confronted it and told it that it would not harm Doctor Beckett…look, the words aren't important!" he flared, as John was beginning to smile with amusement. "What is important is that it did speak! In English which means we can communicate with it and—"

"Kill it."

"No! I mean we can't just…" Rodney's words failed as John glared at him.

"We are gonna kill it before it kills again. Don't!" John held up a finger, effectively silencing the other man.

Rodney sighed and settled, marshaling his arguments for the morrow. He found it irritating to be with two men so reluctant to indulge in the simple joy of conversation or debate. It was yet another reason why he loathed the West so very much. That and the wide open spaces.

"I aim to marry her."

The words startled Rodney and he looked at John. He was watching the campfire, brooding gaze softened by whatever had entered his mind. His fingers had slid to the ribbon again under his sleeve.

"You…who? The ribbon? The woman who gave you that ribbon?" At his silence Rodney sighed again and shook his head.

John smiled and watched the stars.

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Moira watched the stars, but they weren't the stars in the sky. They were pinpoints of light that got smaller and smaller as her vision became a black field devoid of light. As the creature's grasp tightened on her throat it lifted her. Moira's feet dangled under her and she could barely breathe, gasping and wheezing as her life was squeezed out of her by the most monstrous thing she had ever seen.

Carson whirled, stared in shock and fired the rifle. "Moira! Unhand her!"

The bullets slammed into a brute of a man, burly and strangely attired in grey clothing. The creature turned at the violence. It freed Moira and dropped her to the ground. She fell hard, gasping for the sweet oxygen to fill her lungs again as dizziness assailed her.

Carson's eyes widened in horror. The creature facing him was unlike the other one. It could have been mistaken for a very large bulk of a man except it wasn't a man. The face was a mess of half-formed features and the slash of a mouth was filled with too many teeth. Far too many as it grimaced and howled in rage.

Carson fired again, making the creature stagger awkwardly until it toppled with a crash. "Moira! Moira, love!" He ran to Moira, falling to his knees and easing her onto her back. She was gasping, lips blue. A gruesome necklace of marks marred her throat. "Easy now, love, I've got you. Just breathe in, breathe out." Blood was dribbling out of the corner of her mouth and her gaze was glassy. "Easy now, love…easy. Can you hear me, Moira? Can you—"

The blast of a shotgun made Carson whirl, setting Moira down. The creature was upright, staggering, bleeding from multiple wounds but still alive. Again it was shot and shot until with a mewling howl it fell to the ground and lay still.

"I feared there was another one. Let's get it to town, doctor. I need you to perform an autopsy right away before I head out for the next one."

Carson could only stare at Acastus Kolya.


	7. Chapter 7

The Devil You Know7

"Crap."

John slowed his steed and scowled. A bitter wind was buffeting the plains, tossing up whirlwinds of now and scattering tumbleweeds in every direction. The men has spent an uneventful night outdoors and now resumed tracking their prey across the increasingly bland landscape. It wasn't the weather that had halted the sheriff, however. Nor was it the cold.

It was the arm sticking out of the snow.

A bare arm and hand were sticking straight out of a bank of snow. The flesh was pale, almost translucent and as frozen as the snow that engulfed it.

John motioned with his hand. He dismounted and slapped the reins of his horse into Rodney's gloved fingers. "Stay here. Dex." John stomped through the snow towards the horrid marker. He squatted and began to dig around the arm, dislodging the snow.

Ronon joined him and soon the two men had uncovered the grisly corpse of a man. He was old, but not aged well beyond his years. His skin was like parchment, tautly pulled over shrunken organs and brittle bones, but he still had bodily fluids as there were several bloodstains around the corpse. There were teeth marks on the skin, and cuts that could have been made with a knife. Ronon shook his head. "Wolf? Mountain lion?"

"You know an animal to use a knife?" John moved to his feet and brushed the snow off his hands. "Fuck. He musta fed during the night. Some lost soul out here who was foragin' in the mines, I reckon….but the method is different."

"Perhaps it was driven to desperation, or had to fight, or was interrupted," Rodney suggested as he glanced at the gruesome find.

"Fed on? What the hell are we tracking?" Ronon asked, looking up at the sheriff.

John did not answer. He looked round, stepping away from the corpse. He pulled out the device from his coat pocket. It hummed to his touch and the screen grew bright. Five dots were displayed. John considered, lips pursed in a thin line. He restored the device to his pocket and stepped over to the horses and Rodney, who was looking past the body at the horizon. "McKay, how close are we? McKay!"

"What? Oh…" Rodney fumbled with his device. "Very close, a few miles. I am getting a notable spike in unusual ionization ratio according to this which can only be extraterrestrial in its source."

"The meteorite. Let's head out."

"Wait! We've got to give this man a proper burial," Ronon said, moving to his feet.

"There isn't time. We're hot on his trail now, and since he's fed he will be even quicker and harder to put down. The winter will hold him until we get back here. Let's go!"

"No."

"Whaddya mean no?" John snarled, turning to view Ronon. The bigger man hadn't moved an inch and stood almost protectively over the corpse of the hapless victim.

The horses snorted nervously, shaking their heads and stomping the snow with their hooves.

"We need to bury him."

"How? Unless you've got a shovel we'll have to use our hands, and that ground is as hard as a brick! He'll keep. The suspect won't, so get a move on it now! Rodney, lead us out."

"What? Me?" Rodney asked, startled.

John swore. Ronon was moving to his burgeoning pack and produced a small shovel. He stepped to a sheltered spot and began clearing the snow, but when he hit the ground his shovel could only scrape at the frozen dirt. John strode to Ronon, angry. "I said we go on!"

"Fine. Go. I'll catch up."

John grabbed the other man's arm. "Damn it, Dex! This ain't Chickamauga or the war! Those were different times!"

"And you were just as heedless then, Sheppard! You're not my commanding officer anymore! Let go!" Ronon growled, yanking his arm out of John's grasp.

The two men glared at each other. "Fine. Catch up to us when you can. Just don't forget there's a fella tracking us as we track the other one!" Ronon grunted in reply. John swore and strode back to the horses. He mounted and tugged the reins. "Let's go Jumper. McKay?"

Rodney blinked. He freed the reins of Ronon's horse. "This way." He looked back to see Ronon stubbornly trying to dig up the hard ground. He consulted his curious device. "A few miles due east. Um…what was that about?"

"Nothing."

"You mentioned the war. The Battle of Chickamauga? You were there in that slaughter and the defeat of the-"

"And I said nothing!"

John's tone brooked no further comment. The two men rode in silence.

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Carson was pacing, pacing nervously. He kept glancing at the group of men assembled in what remained of the sheriff's office. All were armed and jittery. Beyond them, in one of the standing cells was the body of the thing they had found in Sumner's barn. It was an odd place to conduct an autopsy but given the nature of the creature certain precautions were necessary. And since Moira was recovering from the brutal attack in the medical office it was better that the thing that had almost ended her life was not in the same building with her.

Bates was glowering, rifle in hand. "I told ya! I told you all it was a damn wendigo! It's a—"

"Enough!" Richard's voice cut through the cacophony. "I want this place cleared now. The threat has passed. The thing is dead and will be transported to Washington for further study. Doctor Beckett, if you would."

"What about the other one? The one that Sheriff Sheppard's tracking?" asked a man.

"I am certain your sheriff will effectively deal with the suspect and bring him in, dead or alive," Richard replied. "Bates, if you would?"

"Clear out! You heard the Pinkerton! The threat has passed! Go on home now!"

"Sheppard?" The voice was soft, almost caressing the name but the thread under it was all too audible. It was a mixture of surprise and contempt. "John Sheppard?"

Carson immediately was on alert and he paused near the cell to face the speaker. To his surprise it was the man who had saved Moira and himself from further attack. "And who is asking?" he inquired.

Acastus glanced at the doctor, dismissed him and stepped to Richard. He held out his hand.

Richard frowned, but felt around in his pocket and produced a stack of paper money. He handed it to the taller man. "Your payment, bounty hunter. You brought it in as specified."

"Sheppard?" Acastus repeated, stashing the money into the pocket of his tan duster. His gaze shot to the doctor again.

"Yes," Richard replied. "Sheriff John Sheppard. I believe that he is more than capable of tracking down the other one and bringing—"

"Oh, he's more than capable, all right," Acastus sneered.

"And what the bloody hell do you mean by that, sir?" Carson challenged.

Acastus eyed the doctor. "Nothing. Take care when you cut into him, doc. And please deliver my condolences to the woman for the injuries she sustained. I'll be in the saloon…waiting for the conquering hero to return."

Carson's gaze followed the bounty hunter as he sauntered out of the building. He frowned, turned to Richard. "Why would you hire a bounty hunter? And you knew there were two of these damn things on the loose?"

"We feared there might be more than one. I can't say more, doctor. Please, pay him no heed. I must employ his ilk from time to time. Rest assured he will leave your town as soon as possible."

"What business has he with our sheriff?"

Richard shook his head. "Honestly, I have no idea."


	8. Chapter 8

The Devil You Know8

Moira woke. She moaned, touching her sore throat. Blearily she eyed the room, wondering where she was and what had happened. Memory descended like an avalanche. She gasped, sitting up on the bed, hand at her throat as she took deep breaths. The wave of panic subsided and she scooted up to the wall.

She was alone. It was quiet, eerily quiet and panic resumed. "John? Carson…Carson!" She scrambled off the bed and rushed out of the room, fearing the worst.

"Whoa there, love, it's all right!" Carson caught her before she slammed into him. "You're all right, Moira. Here." He guided her to a chair and set her onto it. "How do you feel?"

"Carson! You…you're all right! That, that thing…that creature…it…" Her brown eyes widened and she touched her throat. Her heart was racing.

"Yes, love, I am fine. How do you feel?"

"Is, is John back yet?" she asked, using the sheriff's Christian name in her distress.

"Not yet, love. Don't upset yourself."

"The, the creature?"

"Dead. Locked in a cell. No, don't worry. It's dead and will be taken out of town by that Woolsey fellow soon enough. I can tell you, Moira, it's the most extraordinary thing I have ever seen! A man yet not a man, and unlike the other one in many ways as well. Yet there is no doubt that they are related; that they are the same species."

"A new species?" Moira asked, calming as they spoke.

"Yes…or an old one. I think I have discovered how it feeds, the methods it uses to first strengthen its victims and then incapacitate them to drain them. My findings confirm what John told me it, and he is lucky to be alive."

"He, he had a mark on his chest, from where it attacked him," Moira confirmed, fingers nervously playing on her lap amid the folds of her black skirt. "John," she said softly, eyes downcast as worry filled her for the lawman.

"I'm sure he's fine, love," Carson comforted, patting her hand. "I have dissected the feeding apparatus and it is quite remarkable. It is attached through a series of veins to a sac in the upper arm which contains a most curious…och, I'm sorry! I am certain you don't want to hear this kind of gruesome talk."

"On the contrary, doctor, please tell us everything." Carson and Moira moved to their feet. Acastus smiled, joining them. He held a gun pointed at them. "Don't make me ask again."

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"This device is advanced, as advanced as the one I gave you. It is an invention of the future, but not of our making. That is to say I do not believe it had its origins here, or if it did it was not created by our kind but by another. I know how fantastic this must all sound to you, but you have the proof in your pocket, and you've seen these, these creatures firsthand. I do not believe the creatures created these marvelous inventions, but I have no indisputable proof of that yet."

John inwardly sighed. The two men had been riding for two hours now, slowly heading up along an incline that led to a ridge. Clouds had overcome the sky, concealing it and snow had begun to spit upon them. The flakes were icy and hard and more were on the way. John pulled the brim of his hat lower to protect his face. He flexed his hands in his gloves as he held the reins of his horse. From time to time he would consult the detector and monitor the array of dots upon the screen. Most of the time, however, he preferred to rely upon his own senses.

"We must be getting closer. I am detecting rising levels of radiation, portending that the object is near and not of this Earth as the readings are not natural. Any fluctuation in the magnetic field can be measured, and using those measurements as a guideline we can ascertain with increasing confidence the abnormal developments of the—"

"McKay."

"—atmosphere relative to the natural currents of those fields. Of course space in entirely different compared to the planet and it is my firm belief that one day we will venture out there, to the stars and be able to see our world in a way that no one ever has."

"McKay."

"Oh, I know, it's fanciful and right out of Mr. Verne's novels but I still believe it to be true. We are marching forward, my friend, and it will only be a matter of time before we have not only conquered every corner of this planet but gone beyond it to—"

"McKay!"

John's stern shout brought up the scientist short. He stopped, snapping the reins of his horse before they both plummeted over the edge of a ravine. He looked at the lawman, both embarrassed and relieved. "Sorry. I was absorbed in my own musings and tracking the readings of this—"

"Is that it?" John pointed.

Rodney looked ahead and his mouth fell open. In the ravine below them destruction had wrought a long furrow. Something large had plowed through the dirt and snow, throwing up rocks and boulders the size of outhouses. Meteoric rock proliferated, but amidst the debris there was a large monstrosity. It was the size of two train cars and triangular. It has suffered significant damage. One wing was broken off and several feet to one side. The hatch was smashed, revealing seats and a curious set of what could only be controls.

It was a spaceship.

"Um, yes. I do believe that is it."

John smiled at Rodney's almost reverential tone. He dismounted and grabbed his rifle. He gestured and the scientist joined him on foot. The two men walked carefully along the ridge and crouched down behind a clump of scrubby bushes.

"I need to get down there."

"Soon as I kill it. Now hush."

"I can't allow that, sheriff. At least not yet. I have this." Rodney produced a curious-looking gun. It was like an enlarged pistol, with odd striations on the barrel. It was thick and odd and John glanced at it.

"What the hell is that?"

"It will subdue the creature without killing it. I believe. That is to say it might take a few shots and then we can question it before we—"

"No. Put that toy away, McKay. I am gonna kill it. Now hush!" John's keen gaze surveyed the area, dismissing the unusual weapon and the request to take in the subject alive.

There was no movement. There was no sound. There was only the falling snow which was becoming heavier, blanketing the area in a white mist and a white sound that isolated the two men. Even the horses had become silent, stoically waiting and trying to graze on bits of foliage. Rodney made to rise but John's hand clamped down on his arm, halting him.

Something was moving. Furtive motions that could have been shadows or the snow, but John knew. He knew the creature was down there, and at last he caught sight of it. He freed Rodney's arm to position his rifle. He peered through the brush to line up his shot when the creature came into view again.

It popped up into view suddenly, a pale, pale face with long, stringy white hair that almost blended in with the snow to make it invisible. John's finger stroked the trigger and he was about to fire when something hard knocked across his head.

He fell sideways, grunting and losing the shot but keeping hold of the rifle all the same, even as his vision swam and he fought not to lose consciousness.

"Sorry, Sheppard. You best stay out of my way now," Rodney said, and quickly headed down the ravine, stun pistol in hand.


	9. Chapter 9

The Devil You Know9

Ronon sensed the sound before he heard it. He had finally finished burying the hapless victim in the hard ground. It was a shallow grave but a grave nonetheless and it was the only decent, Christian thing to do for the poor soul. He had carved a crude grave marker out of some dead branches and tied them together with a leather cord to make a cross.

He stood, muttering a quick prayer as he eyed his handiwork amid the falling snow. Soon the grave would be obscured and forgotten. The land was littered with the remains of the dead, most of whom were forgotten, lost souls wandering in the gloom.

Slowly his hand slid to the butt of his pistol but he didn't draw it, not yet anyway as he sought to lure the intruder closer. He cursed Sheppard over and over in his head, blaming the man for both his practicality and his stubbornness. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he whirled, producing his pistol and aiming to fire.

There was nothing there.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and whirled, firing his weapon in reflex. A wolf snarled and bolted. It was soon lost to sight, becoming one with the blurring snowfall. Ronon grinned and slid the pistol into his holster.

"That was some fine shootin'."

Ronon whirled, drawing his gun. A man was standing near. He was thin, but his chocolate-colored skin made him stand out in the snowfall. He was young. He held up his empty hands and smiled. His fingers were long, oddly long. He had an engaging smile, appearing innocent and eager at the same time. Nonetheless Ronon did not lower his gun. "Who are you?"

"I've been following you. I'm Aidan Ford. I was hopin' to catch up with some other people. I got lost and I need to try to get to Rancho Los Vegas. You know it?"

Ronon considered. He lowered his weapon, and slid it back into his holster. "Yeah, I know it. You been following us the whole time?"

"Since I picked up your trail a ways back. I was afraid to approach when there were three of ya. Where'd the other two go?"

Ronon kept his fingers on the butt of his gun. Something didn't feel right. Something was off and although he couldn't quite place it he never second guessed his instincts. "They'll be back. How'd you get lost? And aren't your people looking for you?" He knew there hadn't been a party of travelers this way recently. He had seen no signs of anyone's passage.

Aidan shrugged, stepping closer. His clothes were heavy, but hanging loosely on his thin form. "I was huntin' and got lost. We were near to starving and had to spread out to find food. You got any? I am real hungry, mister, real hungry."

"Food? Yeah…some. Stay there." Ronon slowly backed towards where his horse was nervously stomping the ground. The whites of its eyes were beginning to show. The animal was exhibiting fear, a fear that it hadn't shown when the wolf had been near it. "Where is the rest of your party?"

"Gone. Dead. I was real, real hungry, see…and I had no choice."

"No choice? Not choice about what?" Ronon asked. His heart was beating faster as he could almost guess the answer.

Aidan smiled, revealing an almost cavernous mouth full of teeth. "I et them."

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Rodney descended the ridge, slipping and sliding on the snow. He made little effort to conceal himself and the creature whirled to face him as he boldly approached. He held up the stun pistol and pointed it at the creature. "Hold there, sir! I know you can understand me and I know you can speak to me, as you did before! You recognize this? Then you know what it can do and I shall not hesitate to use it." The scientist wondered at his boldness, but where amazing discoveries were concerned he was unafraid. "This is your, your vessel, correct? You came from the stars, didn't you? Answer me!"

"Yes, human."

Rodney almost dropped the stun pistol at the sibilant words. He swallowed, dared at glance at the contraption behind the creature. It was a dark mass amid the snow, and becoming blanketed with the new snow falling from the leaden sky. The vehicle appeared to be leaking something black across the snow, as if it was bleeding. It was an unsettling comparison. "It flies among the stars?"

"Yes. You do not fear us?" The creature tilted its head, as if mystified by this man.

"No, I mean, yes, I mean no. There's no need for violence between us. Perhaps we can help you repair your, your vessel and get back to…where are you from again?"

To Rodney's astonishment the creature laughed. It was a chilling sound, a non-human laugh yet evoking a very human sense of humor. "You are pathetic. You do not have the technology or tools I need to repair this ship. Your science is in its infancy."

Rodney bristled at the insult. "I will have you know, sir, that we are advancing our knowledge of the universe every day! And some day, mark my words, we will have ships such as yours and they will take us to the stars, as surely as you arrived here!"

The creature laughed again. "You are food to us, nothing more." The contempt was obvious. Rodney tried not to be angered by it.

"You are alone on our planet, stranded like a wayfarer from the stars. You need our assistance and we need your advanced knowledge. You are an outcast here and alone and…oh oh." Rodney shifted, looking round as another creature emerged from the wreck. And then another appeared, holding a long, alien-looking rifle that Rodney surmised was a weapon. "Oh crap," he muttered, backing up slowly as the aliens smiled at him. "Sheppard?" he called nervously, regretting his impulsive actions.

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Carson stepped gallantly in front of Moira and held up his empty hands. "There's no need for violence, sir. If you wish to learn about the creature I shall tell you all that I know. The truth is that Mr. Woolsey, your employer, I believe, knows far more than I have been able to gauge from my brief dissection of the specimen."

"You misunderstand me, doctor," Acastus corrected with a smile. It was not a warm smile. "I don't give a shit about those things."

"Then what could you possibly want from us?" Carson asked, puzzled and outraged at the way that man so casually swore in front of a woman.

"I want to know about Sheppard." Acastus answered.

"Shepppard?" The name escaped Moira's lips and she stepped next to Carson, staring at the man and realizing that this was no friend of the sheriff, not at all. She felt a sudden need to protect John and it gave her courage.

"What business have you with our sheriff?" Carson asked. He wondered where the hell Bates was, or Richard. The doctor was unarmed and knew he had only a slight chance to overpower their adversary should it become necessary. He glanced across the room to where a tray of syringes was situated on a table.

Acastus's gaze was locked now on Moira. He was coldly assessing, weighing his presumptions with the evidence he had heard and seen. He was weighing the odds as he hefted his rifle. His finger stroked the trigger gently. There was more than one way to make people talk and to get the answers he required.

The doctor would be expendable, but the woman, this bruised and battered woman could be the key he needed to break his nemesis once and for all.

"Personal." Acastus took a step closer to them. His hold on the gun never wavered. "You will tell me everything about him."

"And if we refuse?" Moira challenged, glaring at the bounty hunter.

Acastus smiled. "Then I am afraid that things might become…violent."


	10. Chapter 10

The Devil You Know10

John groaned and groggily sat. He put a hand to his head. He eyed his fingers. A dribble of blood stained his skin. He swore, lifted his face to see beyond the ridge. Vowing to murder McKay his resolve quickly changed as he stared at the startling sight of the scientist surrounded by three of the creatures.

Rodney was trying to talk his way out of his dilemma but it appeared he was having little success. John scrambled along the ridge, taking careful aim with his rifle and taking stock of the situation. He would have to be quick, and keep shooting before his position was revealed and give Rodney time to get to safety. He could berate the scientist later.

He squinted, taking careful aim and fired. One of the creatures went down. The other two whirled and Rodney dove out of the way to safety. Strange bolts of light flew towards him, shot from weapons that John had never seen in his life. He ducked and scrambled as snow and dirt flew around him and the scrub was obliterated where he had been a second ago.

Taking aim again he fired and fired. As the creatures took cover John stood and skidded down the ridge to the ravine. "McKay!" he shouted, as the heavy snowfall all but blinded him and made his boots slip and slide treacherously.

The scientist popped upright and hastened towards him. "I thought I could reason with them!"

"You thought wrong!" John scolded. The two men stood back to back, ensconced behind part of the ship that was tall and broad enough to serve as cover, for now. "Are you gonna use that or is it just for show?"

"What? Oh." Rodney sheepishly eyed the stun pistol and nodded, holding it steadily.

As the creatures fired their weapons John and Rodney took their own shots, each darting round their makeshift cover and then darting back to safety.

"What the hell are those things? They ain't bullets!"

"It's some kind of laser. From what I can ascertain it is a stimulated emission of electromagnetic radiation, honed to be used as a weapon although I believe it could have multiple applications if given the—"

"Sorry I asked!"

John pivoted round and drew his pistol, firing as a beam of light shot right next to him. Pieces of the vessel burst and bled. The creature recoiled from the bullets hitting it. Another was suddenly engulfed in a stream of blue light and fell to the ground. "Fuck that was cool!"

Rodney grinned at him. "Isn't it fascinating? It's just as lethal as your gun, well, it could be if I hadn't had set it on stun which will only incapacitate the—"

"Rodney, look out!" John shoved the man aside as a laser cut through the air and seared the vessel. John slung up his rifle and fired again, diving low as the two pieces of their cover fell apart and left them dangerously exposed. "How the hell do ya kill these things?" he asked as the two men crouched behind what was left of their cover.

"I don't know!"

"Great. Cover me while I re-load." John hunkered down and quickly loaded his guns with more bullets. His bare fingers were freezing and he kept trying to blink the snow out of his eyes. The metal was cold and he had to forcibly grip each bullet to place it properly.

Rodney fired his stun pistol, but the creatures were moving quickly. They were indistinguishable blurs in the snowfall. Rodney stared, blinking, trying to see. Figures were moving in the snow, as if the flakes were becoming solidified forms. "They're too many! They're all around us!" It appeared that the crash site was full of creatures now. Shadowy blurs danced amid the snow as the creatures seemed to multiply before his eyes.

"No. I only counted three," John assured. He looked up, hearing the panic in the scientist's voice. "Do those things eat horses?"

"What?" Rodney glanced at the sheriff, startled by the wayward question. "No. As far as I know, no. Why?"

"Jes checking. We don't wanna be stranded out here." John moved to his feet and peered cautiously round. The snow made visibility all but impossible. The wind slashed at the two men, whipping ice into their faces and clawing at their clothing. In only moments both were coated with a layer of white that would soon penetrate their clothing.

Motion caught his eye and he fired his rifle. He heard the satisfying thud of the impact of his bullet but something rushed at him. He turned to face it, hearing Rodney fire his own weapon and yelp at the same time. A form emerged from the driving snow and crashed into him. John found himself flying in the air, flung impossibly far. He was several feet away from where he had been standing. He managed to hold onto his rifle but his fingers were slipping.

The creature was upon him, instantaneous and grinning like a madman. John punched and kicked. A blow to his brow made him fall back but he rolled, came up on his knees and swung his rifle like a scythe. It cracked loudly against the creature's head and the thing fell sideways. John jumped to his feet and fired repeatedly, cutting the creature in half with a barrage of bullets at close range. Blood spurted and stained the snowfall crimson.

There was a strange sound, like a howling roar. John turned but was too slow another of the creatures slammed into him. Both flew, grappling and landed hard amid the snow and debris of the vessel. Meteor rock cut into John. The creature was close, so close John could smell its fetid breath as it shoved its face near his as it straddled him. "You will die, human," it threatened in a gravelly voice.

John groaned as he was forcibly shoved down, onto his back. For the moment his several layers of clothes protected him. John stared as the creature raised its arm and revealed the palm of one hand where an obscene protuberance was visible. "I ain't goin' this way!" he vowed. He stared as some yellowish, viscous liquid dribbled from the tip of the extremity.

"Sheppard! Sheppard!"

A blast of blue light hit the creature. It snarled and staggered, distracted. John moved quickly, shoving it free and scrambling to his feet. He swung his fists, over and over but the creature would not go down. "McKay! Zap it again!"

"Can't! I'm out of ammo! Sheppard, get away from there! I've got an idea!" Rodney dropped the stun pistol and snatched the longer laser rifle. He quickly sized up the controls and set to work. "Cover me!" he shouted, and ran around back towards the heart of the crashed vessel.

"Cover you? I'm a little busy here!" John retorted, ducking but getting hit anyway. His sneer matched the creature's as they circled, circled. John wondered what had happened to the second one when instinct told him. He cursed and chanced a glance behind him. It was approaching, a nightmare of snow and ghoulish features leering at him.

Slowly John edged sideways, but both creatures were closing the distance between them, with the hapless sheriff in the middle. His rifle was lost somewhere in the snow and his pistol was still in its holster. He knew these things were fast, blindingly fast and somehow he would have to be faster. "McKay!" he called.

"Almost done! Hold them off for a moment!" Rodney called. He was in the bowels of the crashed ship, carefully adjusting wires to the stun rifle. Pressing several buttons produced the desired result, and a dim light indicated a rising level. An audible whine was building, building and creating a pressure in his ears. He mourned the loss of this wonderful technology but realized there was no other way.

"Sure! I'll jes talk to them a spell!" John turned, turned again. He felt like a mouse caught between two cats and he hated that. "McKay!"

"Two seconds!"

"Fuck. Here we go," John muttered. He gripped the butt of his pistol as he sized up his opponents. He tried to read the intentions in their oddly shaped eyes, although their desires were all too obvious.

With blinding speed the creatures advanced upon him.

John drew his pistol and fired, spinning on his heels.


	11. Chapter 11

The Devil You Know11

The crack was audible. Carson spun and staggered with the hit, then fell to the floor with the unexpected blow. Blood trickled along his lip as he experimentally worked his jaw. Unfortunately it wasn't the first hit and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

"Carson!" Moira cried, rushing to the doctor. She knelt to him and helped him regain his balance so he could sit on the floor. "Stop this now, please!" she insisted, turning to view the bounty hunter. "There's no need for this!"

"Whatever happens, don't tell him a thing!" Carson insisted. He tried to move to his feet but fell back, dizzy. Moira kept her hold on his arm as she knelt next to him. The doctor already had a black eye, and now his lower lip was bruising and swelling to join the increasing cavalcade of injuries.

Acastus smiled. He clenched his right hand into a fist. "I admire your courage, doctor, as well as your loyalty. However, your fate is in her hands." His steely gaze fell upon Moira. "Tell me what I need to know before I inflict a serious injury."

"We can't tell you what we don't know!" Moira insisted, turning to face the bounty hunter as he towered above them. The schoolmarm was no stranger to violence from men's hands. In fact she had come to accept it as a matter of course, except from a few such as the man who was being beaten.

And the man whom she was protecting.

"Sheppard keeps his cards close to his vest, does he? Always has, the bastard," Acastus sneered. "Still, you must know something about him. How he came to get this job and when he will be returning to town. What exactly he brought with him. Did he buy that tin star? Where does he keep his possessions? Does he care about anyone in this town?" His gaze bore into Moira.

Moira was silent. Despite the severity of the situation she couldn't speak. She wouldn't reveal anything about John, not even to spare Carson. Guilt twisted in her, but so did resolve. It was a terrible choice to make, but it had to be made.

"Fine." Acastus swung his boot this time and hit the doctor in the knee. Carson groaned and grabbed his leg as fiery pain shot along it.

"Stop this! We don't know that much about him!" Moira insisted. It was the truth. She knew very little about John's past. In fact this man seemed to know more than anyone.

"He's a loner. Always has been. And whatever else you want to know I suggest you ask him yourself when he gets back next week," Carson averred through gritted teeth as he touched his sore knee.

Acastus frowned. "Not good enough."

"No! Stop!" Moira cried as Acastus hauled the doctor to his feet by the lapels of his coat and shook him, as if he could shake the answers from Carson. Moira grabbed his arm, trying to pull him off the doctor. Carelessly the bounty hunter backhanded Moira. She moaned and fell sideways, knocking into a table. Glasses fell and shattered onto the floor.

"You recreant!" Carson charged, infuriated. He slammed into the other man. Moira scrambled out of the way as they crashed into a couple of chairs, breaking them. There was a violent tussle and suddenly a gunshot rang out in the air.

"Carson!" Moira rushed to aid the doctor but was grabbed by the bounty hunter. His fingers bore into her arm, causing pain. Carson was writhing on the floor as blood seeped down his arm heavily. A visage of agony spread across his features.

"You tell that scoundrel I'll be waiting for him with his woman!"

"Unhand her now! I will bring this town on your head for—"

Another shot rang out. "Carson!" Moira cried, as the doctor staggered backwards. The bullet had struck his lower leg.

"No you won't. Not if you want this woman back in one piece. And if anyone comes after us I will kill them. You send Sheppard alone to me. Let's go, doxy."

"No!" Carson struggled as he grasped his arm. The shot had gone through and he was bleeding badly, but as far as he could judge no major arteries had been hit. The leg injury was minor but stung like hell. "I'll get the law after you!"

Moira struggled. "Let go of me! He won't come after me! He won't fall for your trap!"

"In that case you can amuse me while I wait for him." Acastus paused and smiled at the doctor. "Tell him I've holed up in the Barrens. He knows the place. And like I said, send Sheppard alone or I will start playing with her." He pressed a pistol against Moira's side. "Any noise from you and my trigger finger will get mighty itchy. Let's go."

"Carson, no, stay there!" Moira said, as the doctor was trying to follow. She staggered as Acastus dragged her out of the medical office. The streets were deserted and snow had begun to fall, cloaking them in a white haze. Moira fought, squirming but the bounty hunter's fingers dug painfully into her arm and the muzzle of his gun pinched her side.

"Mrs. Sumner? What's goin' on here? I heard shots."

Acastus didn't hesitate. He pulled his weapon away from Moira and fired. Moira gasped as Bates went down, eyes wide with surprise. Acastus didn't even slow his stride as he dragged his hapless hostage around the body and down the street.

"Stop this! You can't be killing everyone in town!"

"I won't as long as they don't get in my way. There's only one man I aim to kill. Sheppard."

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Ronon staggered, shocked. The skinny kid had moved like lightning, striking fast and practically hurling the tracker across the newly dug grave. Ronon lifted his rifle and fired, but he only hit empty air. He whirled, glaring but the kid had seemingly disappeared. "Ford! Where are ya?"

Silence.

The snow swirled around Ronon, reducing his visibility to only a few inches in front of him. Doggedly he stepped through the snow and wind, heading for his horse. He kept a tight grip on his rifle, trying to see and hear if any threat was close. The wind whistled in his ears and his fingers felt like ice as they gripped the rifle.

There was a dark blur. Ronon caught it out of the corner of his eye. He whirled and fired. Something fell backwards and was gone.

Ronon saw a trail of blood. He grunted, making his way to his horse. The animal was pawing the snow, nervous but not leaving its master. "Hold on there, Sateda. Easy now." Ronon looked round but all he could see was a world of dizzying white. He clambered onto the horse, scowling.

Any tracks that Sheppard and McKay had left were now long gone, obliterated by the storm. Ronon debated, trying to judge which way to ride. Finally he capitulated and let his horse have free rein. The animal snorted and began to walk into the wind and the storm.

Abruptly his horse neighed in fright, rearing up and almost dislodging its rider. Ronon grasped the reins tightly and set his spurs to command the horse. Before he could speak warm air wafted over him in a rush. The snow dissolved momentarily and the tracker could see for miles ahead of him.

He stared at the distance where a bloom of color lit the sky, a multi-colored explosion that rose high in the air and then fell back on itself. Flames roared and a screeching scream rent the air. The horse tried to run, rolling its eyes but Ronon controlled it.

The snow fell back like a curtain, obscuring everything once more.

"What the hell was that?" Ronon wondered. He guided his horse to head that way. Whatever it was the tracker knew one thing: Sheppard had to be involved in some way.

Ronon failed to see that Ford was miles ahead of him, going in the same direction.


	12. Chapter 12

The Devil You Know12

Time slowed. Everything moved at once, but each motion was like a heartbeat. John fired his pistol at the first creature, spun and fired at the second one. Both creatures kept coming at him, lunging to squeeze him in a deathly, violent embrace. John ducked and dove out of the way but long nails scraped across his cheek, tearing into his flesh. Blood flew in droplets mingling with the falling snow, turning it crimson.

"Sheppard! Run!" Rodney's words were slow as well, sounding as if from a great distance.

Abruptly time reasserted itself. John fell hard, pain lacing his face. He scrambled but found the two creatures were running away from him, back towards the hulk of the vessel. Snow was falling thickly, almost blinding him but John made out the form of the scientist as he raced away from the wreck, climbing the out of the ravine.

"Sheppard! Run!" Rodney repeated, shouting over the increasing whine of machinery.

John leapt to his feet and bolted around the debris. The ground was vibrating under his boots and a weird humming filled his ears. He ran and flung himself up the ridge just as a wash of warm air melted the snow all around him. He fell to the ground and covered his head with his arms.

A terrible explosion rent the air. It created a great whoosh of energy, a vacuum that was quickly filled by hot air. Debris flew every which way. Huge pieces of the vessel were flung as if by a giant's hand and landed perilously close to the two men.

John chanced a glance over his shoulder and stared as the vortex expended multiple colors into the air. The snow was gone, literally melted by the heat of the explosion. The colors fell back and a dangerous rumbling shook the earth. Flames shot high into the air and licked everything in the ravine, including the two creatures as they staggered out of the blaze.

John slid round, prone on his stomach and took aim. He fired once, then twice, hitting each creature in the head. They fell as the flames engulfed them.

"Sheppard! Sheppard, are you all right?" Rodney hastened to the lawman and stood, staring at the disaster he had created.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," John snapped. He moved to his feet, wiping the blood off his cheek. He snatched his rifle from Rodney's grasp, nearly taking off the man's fingers in the process. "What the fuck was that?"

"I set their guns to overload. I calculated the resultant power surge would combine with their wrecked ship and spark an adverse vacuum, much like an electrical shock but many times larger. It was all I could think of to get you out of there and save our skins."

"Well, you done that. Good job."

"Good job? It's a terrible job!" Rodney complained. "All of that priceless knowledge is lost to us now, as are those creatures! Who knows when we will be able to match their technology? I just destroyed all the evidence of space travel and creatures from another world. All four of them are now deceased."

"Four? I counted three," John opined, not caring a whit about the lost knowledge, although the idea of a ship that flew in the stars and not on the open ocean intrigued him.

"There were four seats in that ship, so I just assumed…" Rodney met John's gaze as the terrible thought entered their heads.

"Sheppard!"

Both men looked over towards the shout. A dark figure was emerging out of the snowfall. At first Rodney thought it was a bear riding a horse, but the figure resolved itself into the familiar build of Ronon. The tracker reached them, glancing past them to the fiery wreck behind them.

"We got a problem," Ronon informed, seemingly unperturbed by the unusual sight of a spaceship burning in the ravine.

"Besides that?" John asked, indicating the destruction behind him.

"Yep. I seen it."

"You've seen what?" Rodney asked, shaking his head at the man's sloppy grammar.

"I seen it. The wendigo."

"The what?" Rodney asked. "Oh…that creature in Mrs. Sumner's book," he recalled.

John replied, "There's no such thing as a…wait. You mean another one of those creatures?"

"No. This was a man, or used to be a man. A kid, really…name of Aidan Ford."

"He introduced himself to you?" Rodney asked, his disbelief audible as well as his sarcasm. He glanced at John. "Nice to know the monsters around here are so very neighborly."

"McKay," John warned, seeing the glower on the tracker's face. "It was a man?"

Ronon glared. The sheriff's disbelief was obvious too. "Yes, but it wasn't a man. He was with some party that got stranded in the storm and they resorted to eating each other…or rather he ate them all. He ain't a man no more but a wendigo."

"He ate the—" Rodney began, shocked.

"Whatever that is we can deal with it later. Right now we got another creature to track and kill. But first we are returning to town in case it's around there." John had an itchy feeling and he knew he had to act on it. If the fourth creature wasn't with the others it more than likely could be near the town. "Let's go."

"There's a cannibal out here?" Rodney continued, shocked at the barbarity.

Ronon grinned. "It happens a lot out here."

"It does? Oh my God!" Rodney exclaimed, eyes widening.

"Don't worry. You ain't the type to be eaten," Ronon continued, enjoying scaring the city dweller. "Then again…they do like the fatter ones."

"What? I will have you know, sir, that I am quite fit for a man of my years and bearing!" Rodney contended, but he paused, glancing round. "Would they really eat me?"

"Let's go!" John ordered, tiring of the banter.

As abruptly as the blizzard had hit it was suddenly gone. The snow stopped and traveling was easier for the three men. They rode in tandem as their horses trampled the snow. A pale blue sky was slowly being revealed as the clouds rolled back. The sunlight on the snow was blinding, sparkling so vividly it looked like the men were riding across a field of diamonds.

A wind was blowing and it was cold. The men pulled their hats low on their heads and hunched in the saddles as they were riding into the increasing gale that threatened to unseat them. The manes of the horses flew every which way, tangling like a woman's long hair. The animals kept their heads low as well, facing the blast of air with stubborn efficiency.

John was scowling. Even with the improved travel conditions they wouldn't reach the town before nightfall, and that was only if they increased their pace and traveled steadily. Already Rodney was fidgeting and complaining about being hungry and getting saddle sore, while Ronon wanted to veer another direction and search for this Aidan Ford fellow he was convinced was a real wendigo.

John just wanted to get back to town. He wanted to make sure that Moira was all right; that she was safe and secure. He wanted to be in that house, in that bedroom and under the blankets with her, all warm and cozy and enjoying her affections. He wanted her to tend his injuries and ease his aches. He wanted a hot meal and a glass of whiskey.

He had a bad feeling; a strange misgiving that he was certain was just composed of his imagination and the unworldly events he had experienced. Nevertheless he couldn't ignore it and pushed his horse into a harder gallop.

He failed to see Aidan Ford sprint past them in a blur of unworldly motion.


	13. Chapter 13

The Devil You Know13

There was a lone rider heading out of town. Sunset was at his back, gilding him in golden rays that kept his identity in darkness. He was riding a horse and oddly listing to one side, as if about to fall off the animal.

John slowed his horse as he spotted the man. He neared, eyes narrowing. "Doc?" he recognized. Quickly he dismounted and moved to the other man before he fell off the horse. "Carson? What's goin' on?" He stared at the bruises all over the doctor's face.

"John…you…you have to save her…you have to…"

"Save her? Save who? Let's get you inside, doc. You're bleeding! What the hell happened while I was gone?" Blood was trickling from one of Carson's arms, and he was favoring one leg over the other.

John whistled. His horse obediently followed as he helped the other man back into town. Ronon and Rodney caught up and followed, exchanging a surprised glance. The town appeared quiet, sleepy in the dim twilight. There were no overt signs of violence.

Once in the medical office Carson shook his head, moving to sit in a chair. He was pale and his blue eyes were full of worry. "John, you have to go now! You have to save her!"

"Who…Moira," he realized. His gut twisted and his limbs felt like stone. He stared down at the doctor. "Where is she?" His voice was low and gruff, thick with emotion.

"What happened here, Doctor Beckett? How did you come to be injured?" Rodney asked, appalled at the appearance of the man.

Carson sighed. "Long story. There was another creature, but it's dead," he assured, seeing the alarm on the men's faces. "It attacked Moira and me but the bounty hunter killed it. Then all hell broke loose and this man, this man took Moira. He killed Bates! He's after you, John! He seemed to know you."

John was silent, mind working furiously. "What was his name?" he finally asked.

"Kolya."

"What was a bounty hunter doin' here?" Ronon asked, spitting out the profession as if it was a bad word.

"Woolsey had hired him to track the creatures."

"Where?" John asked quietly. He had gone very still. He gripped the butt of his pistol tightly. The world seemed to dissolve all around him as his focus narrowed on the doctor's words and the information he would impart.

"He said the Barrows. He said you'd know the place. He said to come alone." Carson winced and moved to his feet. He clasped his wounded arm. "I was going after her. I tried to get a posse but folks are scared of this man, after Bates was gunned down. I, I tried to stop him from taking her, John, I tried…"

"I know you did, doc. Don't worry." John's glance went round the room. He seemed frozen in place as a tumult of emotions hit him. It had been a long time since he had felt a whisper of fear, but he felt it now as a shiver stole up his back. He eyed a tray on the table full of syringes that contained a yellowish substance. "What's that?"

"What? Oh…something I was using to try to help Deputy Lorne. When I dissected the creature I discovered that the protuberance in the hand was connected via a series of veins to a sac in the upper arm. It contained a most curious substance that I cannot identify. It seems to aid in at first strengthening then incapacitating the victims."

"Is it helping the deputy?" Rodney asked, glancing at the syringes as well.

"A little. It's still too early to tell."

"Keep working on it, doc. I'll go after Moira," John stated.

"Whoa, wait!" Rodney caught his arm. "You can't go after this madman alone! From what the doctor has said he's a cold-blooded killer!"

"He is," John affirmed.

"So you do remember him." Ronon was eying the sheriff, curious at the other man's sudden inactivity and indecision. It was so unlike the man that it was worrisome. Ronon wondered what it was about this bounty hunter that had shaken John more than those weird creatures had.

John was silent. He crossed the room and peered into the small room where Evan was convalescing. The deputy looked as terrible as ever, aged beyond his years and drained of most of his vitality. He was asleep. The rise and fall of his chest was painfully slow and a faint wheezing sound issued from his parched lips.

John's back was to the men but he could feel their stares, their expectant speculation and curiosity. There was a black well in John that was going to drown him. The past he had thought he had successfully escaped seemed to have caught up to him at last. And now, like before, there were innocent victims in its path.

"You can't ride out now, John, it's too dark. Go at first light," Carson suggested as the three men exchanged puzzled glances.

"This can't wait." John turned towards the men. Resolve hardened on his handsome face.

"At least get a hot meal in you and let your horse rest a bit," Ronon argued.

"Yes, that's an excellent idea," Rodney agreed with a smile. "If you know where this Barrows place is you know where to find him, and if he is using Mrs. Sumner as a hostage he won't harm her, now will he? We can ride out at first light and—"

"No." John's gaze was severe. "I will ride out alone, so no else gits killed. And he will harm her, if given the chance. You all stay here and keep the town safe." John brusquely left the office.

No one noticed that one of the syringes was missing.

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Moira stirred. She was exhausted, sore, scared and angry. And hungry. Reluctantly she ate the stew. It was awkward with her tied hands but she managed. She was sequestered in a small room in a dilapidated cabin. The room was bare except for one lone chair where she sat, tied to it. There was a tiny fire in the hearth. Orange flames licked the wood and struggled against the damp and the cold to survive.

Moira sipped some water from a canteen and set it awkwardly on the floor. She straightened, hearing boot steps. She stared as Acastus entered the room. He was frowning, rubbing his bare hands together. He stood, eying her.

"He ain't here yet. Even given time to return to town and then head here he should have been here by now."

"He won't come after me," Moira asserted, although she knew it was a lie. Or she thought she knew. Doubt plagued her and she wondered about her abductor and his incomprehensible hatred of John.

Acastus smiled and drew a knife. "In that case I really don't need you, now do I?" He enjoyed watching her shrink back against the chair. He moved to the fire and squatted. He grabbed a log and used the knife to cut away the damp layer of bark on it.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you hate him so?" she asked.

Acastus replied, "It's personal. You think you know him, do you? You don't know him at all."

"And you do?" she challenged.

Acastus threw the log onto the fire. It blazed briefly. He stood, turned and stepped to her. "Yes, I do. Even if he doesn't care that much about you he will come after you. His sense of duty, you see. Just like before that will cost him dearly. But this time I intend to enact my payment of the debt he owes me."

"The debt?" she asked. The look in his eyes was chilling.

Acastus smiled. "An eye for an eye."


	14. Chapter 14

The Devil You Know14

The wind blew. It soughed in the trees, creating a mournful dirge. It slid across the snow, raising waves and scattering them like tears across the landscape. It whistled in the valley and sounded like ghostly voices crying out warnings.

Sunrise streamed across the sky in a gorgeous palette of roses and golds. It sprang along the clouds and littered the horizon with streams of light that colored the snow. It was still cold, bitterly cold, however and ice hung from the scrub as John passed.

He rode alone, on his faithful horse. He had set out at first light, after packing everything he thought he would need. He had reloaded his weapons. His hat was drawn low over his head to break the wind slicing through him. His black duster flapped to either side of him.

His grip on the reins was tight, belying his emotion. He kept his gaze fixed on the distance. The landscape was flat but would soon give way to a valley, a depression before the hills rose up a few miles further. The valley was bathed in shadows and reputed to be haunted. It was the remains of an old boom town and that come and gone as quickly as the silver strike that had created it. It was almost forgotten and nearly forsaken.

It was the Barrows.

John licked his lips and slowed his horse with a gentle tug. The animal softly neighed and paused, shaking its head. John eyed the valley. It was mostly in blackness. Faint streams of the sunrise were penetrating, weakly illuminating a few dilapidated buildings. It sparkled on the frozen river, creating a zigzag line of light across the old town.

He knew that Moira could be in any one of those buildings. He knew that Kolya could be holed up in one of them as well, just waiting with a shotgun aimed right for him.

John dismounted. He patted his horse and unfastened his shotgun. He checked his pistol. He adjusted the knife at his back. He swallowed his misgivings and fears as the past threatened to reassert itself.

He strode boldly towards the town.

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"He's gone? He went alone?" Rodney sounded outraged as he stood in the hotel. He stared round as the men who were trying to enjoy their breakfast. "How could you allow that? How could you just let him go! This is outrageous! Fine, just sit there on your lazy behinds and let your sheriff once again risk his life to save yours!"

"It's his job," one opined.

"That's no bloody excuse and you know it!" Carson flared, rising to his feet but having to sit back down as his leg threatened to give way under him.

"I am going after him! Do any of you know where this Barrows place is?" Rodney challenged.

"I do." Ronon entered the hotel. His contemptuous gaze hit the other men and many looked away in shame, in guilt. "You sure you wanna ride out there, city fella? They say it's haunted."

"Haunted? There are no such things as ghosts!" Rodney declared.

"And there could be cannibals," Ronon added with a sly grin.

"You are not amusing, sir! And even if there are such monsters I still wish to ride out there! I, for one, do not abandon my friends!"

"You're friends with Sheppard?" Ronon asked, dubious.

"Well…no, I mean yes, I mean we have been through a lot together. And I certainly will not allow him to face danger alone. And I certainly will not allow Mrs. Sumner to remain in the hands of that ruffian any longer!"

"Be careful, Rodney. This Kolya…he's brutal," Carson warned. The doctor sighed. He could only imagine how Moira was faring and it made him sick.

"I'll take care of him, doc. Let's go, fancy man." Ronon hefted his buffalo gun on his shoulder and strode out of the hotel.

"Why does everyone call me that?" Rodney wondered. He adjusted his silken cravat and followed after the tracker.

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Moira stirred from a fitful doze as a hand lightly slapped her. She woke, struggling in the chair as she was struck again. Pain stung her cheek and made one eye water. Furious she blinked away the tears to see her captor leering over her.

"Wake up." Acastus eyed her. She was a mess of bruises and cuts. Her hair was straggling around her face, falling from the braid in waves. Her brown eyes were defiant and angry, however, and he began to get an inkling of what John saw in an otherwise plain woman. "Seems the hero is here now."

"He's…John! JOHN!" she shouted, but Acastus suddenly gagged her with his kerchief.

"Enough of that now, woman! I won't have him warned just yet." He tied the gag and checked that her wrists were still bound together. He stepped back to view his handiwork. "That'll do." He smiled as she tried to talk round the gag, but only muffled sounds could be heard. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. Just know you aren't the first woman to die because of him, but you will be the last, I promise." He tipped his hat to her and exited the building.

Moira stared after him. She had no idea what he was talking about and she didn't care. She struggled. Squirming in the chair moved it slightly. The rope at her waist was tight, painfully rough against her and it made movement awkward. She tried to move her wrists. The rope bit into the tender flesh, rubbing it raw to bleed. She tried to work the gag out of her mouth but it was too tightly bound.

She rocked and rocked, scooting the chair inch by precious inch towards the window. There was no glass and it was open to the darkness and the dawn. She could see very little. She wondered if John would hear her, or catch sight of her before Acastus made his move.

She was desperate to warn John in any way she could, even at the cost of her own life.

She ignored the trail of blood she was leaving on the floor.

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John forded the frozen stream, carefully stepping along the rocks. They were slick with ice and he slid a few times, but doggedly persisted. Sunlight shone brightly on the ice, seemingly creating a path for him to follow. Instead he crossed the creek and quickly moved to the shadows. He stood near a building that only had two walls standing.

He peered round. It was quiet, dark. Even the wind was low down here and whispered on the snowy ground. He spied footprints and followed them with his gaze, marking where they lead. He waited, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. Nothing moved.

He thought he heard a sound, a woman's cry but it was abruptly silenced and stolen by the wind. He tensed. He licked his lips again and his fingers slid along his rifle. Finally he moved, stepping out of the shadows.

He walked slowly down the street. Most of the buildings he passed were weathered beyond repair. Walls were missing or leaning to one side. An old stove glinted in the ruins of a house. A tumbled chimney was a stack of bricks eroded to a patina of a ghastly green. Shadows striped his path along the road and the snow, creating a monotone world of black and white, black and white.

It was eerily quiet. It was eerily still. Not even a tumbleweed crossed his path. He paused, gaze on the tracks, on the ruins, on everything around him.

"Kolya! Kolya!" he called.

His voice echoed through the valley, bouncing off the higher ground. It sent a flock of birds to flight. They flew across the rose-gold sky and were lost to sight.

"Kolya! I'm calling you out!"

John's fingers flexed on the rifle as he realized he was holding it too tightly. He felt the reassuring weight of his other weapons. He took a few more steps down the road, tensing. Every sense was alert.

He stopped in the middle of the road. He knew he was making himself a target, but he didn't care. He knew he wouldn't be shot, not just yet. He wondered where Moira was.

"Kolya! Kolya! KOLYA!"


End file.
